(Or should I say "mange du corveau"?)
As Bush the Unready got his war on in Iraq in 2003, Lucianne's love-child was busily castigating those nasty Frenchies (who didn't think Bush's War was anything but bush-league--and they were right in that estimation) as "cheese-eating surrender monkeys." Well, Jonah, buddy, grab your serviette and start wiping that omelette aux fines herbes off your face.
It seems that those Frenchies, while taking it in the teeth from the Republican Attack Poodles for not getting in line behind the Worst. President. Ever. and his drôle de guerre in Iraq, quietly worked with the CIA to set up a top-secret Paris base to help fight the real global war on terror. And they'd been helping the CIA to track and apprehend terror suspects for more than a year by the time the War on Iraq started.
As I was driving up to Madison yesterday afternoon to rendez-vous with a few of my fellow Kossacks, I passed a pickup truck with a "Boycott France" sticker affixed to the back window of its camper top somewhere north of Beloit. As I pulled even to pass him, I had to fight down a serious urge to flip off the driver. But instead I just made sure to accelerate past him and let him get a look at the "Impeach Bush and we'll call it even" and "He's NOT my president!" stickers on my own bumper. I'd love to have had the chance to get inside his head and learn his reaction to those--and to this news report. Unfortunately, while the WaPo was on the story, I have to doubt that it's likely to get major media play outside the Beltway.
And that's unfortunate. Because I had a simply merveilleux time in France this January. It's a beautiful country (large swathes of it reminded me of home; placid green fields, grazing cows, rolling hills), and simply steeped in history and culture. The food is fantastic, and so are the cheese and wine, and the prices are pretty doggone reasonable. Everybody's friendly (at least if you speak a little French to them), and even given the froideur of the official relations between our two countries, nobody batted an eyelid when I presented my U.S. passport, or gave me any grief about Bush the Unready or his policies. I felt perfectly at home there, and I look forward to my next trip.
For the meantime, I'll content myself with remarking, as I did when I caught sight of that silly bumper sticker yesterday afternoon, Vive la France! And I'll be sure to play the Marseillaise a few times on Bastille Day next week before hopping on the plane for my vacation out west.